have you been?"

It was several seconds before she could get breath to answer him. "I
couldn't get home," she exclaimed. "The snow--the cars had stopped."

"But where were you then?" he demanded.

"I had to go home with a friend," she panted--"with Jadvyga."

Jurgis drew a deep breath; but then he noticed that she was sobbing and
trembling--as if in one of those nervous crises that he dreaded so. "But
what's the matter?" he cried. "What has happened?"

"Oh, Jurgis, I was so frightened!" she said, clinging to him wildly. "I
have been so worried!"

They were near the time station window, and people were staring at them.
Jurgis led her away. "How do you mean?" he asked, in perplexity.

"I was afraid--I was just afraid!" sobbed Ona. "I knew you wouldn't know
where I was, and I didn't know what you might do. I tried to get home,
but I was so tired. Oh, Jurgis, Jurgis!"

He was so glad to get her back that he could not think clearly about
anything else. It did not seem strange to him that she should be so very
much upset; all her fright and incoherent protestations did not matter
since he had her back. He let her cry away her tears; and then, because
it was nearly eight o'clock, and they would lose another hour if they
delayed, he left her at the packing house door, with her ghastly white
face and her haunted eyes of terror.

There was another brief interval. Christmas was almost come; and because
the snow still held, and the searching cold, morning after morning
Jurgis half carried his wife to her post, staggering with her through
the darkness; until at last, one night, came the end.

It lacked but three days of the holidays. About midnight Marija and
Elzbieta came home, exclaiming in alarm when they found that Ona had not
come. The two had agreed to meet her; and, after waiting, had gone to
the room where she worked; only to find that the ham-wrapping girls had
quit work an hour before, and left. There was no snow that night, nor
was it especially cold; and still Ona had not come! Something more
serious must be wrong this time.

They aroused Jurgis, and he sat up and listened crossly to the story.
She must have gone home again with Jadvyga, he said; Jadvyga lived only
two blocks from the yards, and perhaps she had been tired. Nothing could
have happened to her--and even if there had, there was nothing could
be done about it until morning. Jurgis turned over in his bed, and was
snoring again before the two had cl